


No. (Icky Thoughts and Kicking Walls)

by radiowavemisfit



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Regression, Anxiety, Diapers, Gen, Little!Reader, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pacifiers, Reader-Insert, Tony’s big in this one?? I didn’t know I could do that, Wetting, blankies, bratty!reader, caregiver!Steve, caregiver!steve rogers, little!tony (mentioned), nsap, pull-ups, reader is not having a good day, tantrums, timeout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 15:26:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20603060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiowavemisfit/pseuds/radiowavemisfit
Summary: “No.”It’s such a simple word, only two little letters. Something so small shouldn’t be cause for such torment.But that went for two things it would seem.





	No. (Icky Thoughts and Kicking Walls)

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back?

“No.”   
  
It’s such a simple word, only two little letters. Something so small shouldn’t be cause for such torment.   
  
But that went for two things it would seem.   
  
“(Y/N), I need you to come over here please.”   
  
“No.”   
  
Steve smirked a little. “Sorry kiddo, but that wasn’t a question. Please come over here.”   
  
“No.”   
  
The smirk went away. Steve stood up, setting his book down on the couch with a scrap of paper tucked between the pages. He crossed the room, squatting down next to you. You were just minding your own business, with your coloring books and crayons laying out in front of you. You hardly even looked up when Steve approached.   
  
“Come on, I need to check if you’re wet.”   
  
You shifted quickly, bringing your legs in and your knees up to your chest, and you wrapped your blankie tightly around yourself.   
  
“No!”   
  
Steve was a little taken aback at your outburst, you rarely ever raised your voice, regardless of your headspace.   
  
“(Y/N),” Steve started speaking cautiously. It wasn’t often that you acted out, so whenever you did it was a cause for concern in Steve’s eyes. He reached out and put a gentle hand on your shoulder, but you recoiled and huddled in on yourself.   
  
“Leave ‘lone.”   
  
Now that was strange. You almost never turned away physical affection. Steve would often say that between you and Tony, he had the cuddliest little ones out there.   
  
Steve sat back on his heels, careful to give you space. “(Y/N) do you need to tap out? Just say the word, you know that’s all it takes.”   
  
Your ‘safe word’. You had only ever used it a few times, mostly early on when you were all still figuring things out and testing waters. He knew that you were more than capable of saying the word, and he knew to not make assumptions. The one and only time he thought you were implying that you wanted out of playtime left you feeling abandoned, and left Steve beating himself up about it for days. It was a slippery slope, but Steve was the best at navigating it out of everyone you knew.   
  
Which is why he was so careful now.   
  
“I need you to tell me, please. Are you using your safe word? I won’t be mad either way, I just need to know.”   
  
“No.”   
  
“So are we just acting out, then?”   
  
You crossed your arms and pouted, scrunching your eyebrows at Steve. You picked up your pacifier from the floor and shoved it into your mouth without breaking eye contact from your staredown with Steve.   
  
Steve nodded. “Alright, that answers that question. I think someone needs a few minutes in the corner then, you know we don’t yell.” He reached out to lift you up, but you pushed his hands away, maybe using your foot to help but who’s to say, really. “Alright, we don’t yell and we definitely don’t hit  _ or _ kick.”   
  
You smacked the heel of your foot against the floor, somehow pouting even harder. Steve sighed and rolled his eyes, and tried again. He got his hands under your arms and lifted you off the floor just enough to carry you to the designated (but rarely used) timeout corner of the living room. You were fully prepared to at least consider doing as you were told and behaving, until Steve took your blankie.   
  
“Alright kiddo, you’ve got ten minutes over here. No getting up or moving from this spot, got it?” Steve said, kneeling in front of you. As he spoke, he carefully unwrapped you blankie from around your shoulders, folding the soft material over his arm as he stood.   
  
“Mine!” You reached out to save your blankie, but Steve stood up too quickly and held it out of your reach.   
  
“You know you’re not allowed to have toys or your blanket in timeout. That’s always been the rule, sweetheart, no different today.”   
  
Then the tears started.   
  
“Nooo!” You screamed in a long drawn-out whine. You threw yourself forward onto the floor, burying your face in the carpet.   
  
Steve sighed, shutting his eyes to center himself. He’d dealt with tantrums before, but they were so few and far between. “(Y/N) you know better than this, I know you do. But throwing a fit isn’t going to get you out of that corner any quicker. JARVIS, can you set a timer for ten minutes please?”   
  
“Of course, Captain.”   
  
“Thanks. I’m going to clean up in the kitchen, you need to stay put. JARVIS will tell me if you move, and that’s gonna get time added on, okay?”   
  
You kicked at the wall in response.   
  
“JARVIS, can you make that twelve minutes?”   
  
—-   
  
The first five or so minutes, Steve could hear you crying and carrying on from the living room. And then it got quiet. Suspiciously quiet.   
  
“Captain,” JARVIS spoke up. “(Y/N) has moved out of th-“ and then a loud clattering and thudding interrupted.   
  
Steve threw the dish towel he was holding, not caring if it landed on the counter or the floor. He ran back into the living room, knowing in the back of his head that if it were an emergency and you were hurt, JARVIS would have told him, but he couldn’t help but worry when you were little, the same went for Tony. It was his instinct as a caregiver to worry.   
  
He stopped in his tracks and almost wanted to turn around and go back to the kitchen when he saw you.   
  
In the time it took for JARVIS to alert Steve that you’d left the corner, you’d made it over to the bookshelf lining the wall and cleared off two of the shelves of everything they held, books and knick-knacks and one poor little potted plant. Books were scattered across the floor, some open, some closed, a few face down on the floor with more than a few bent pages. The ceramic pot holding a small pant remained intact, but there was dirt already ground into the carpet. Thankfully though, it seemed that the only thing broken was the rules.   
  
“(Y/N),” Steve sputtered a little bit in disbelief. This was certainly a side he’d never seen from you before. You could be ornery, sure, but never destructive. “What do you think you’re doing?”   
  
Your face was still red around your cheeks and it was clear you’d been crying your eyes out. You huffed a breath out through your nose and reached up and pushed another book from the shelf.   
  
“(Y/N)!” Steve was at your side in a heartbeat, grabbing your wrists and leading you away from the mess of books and dirt. You struggled and tried to wriggle from his grasp, but even with how carefully he was holding onto you, trying not to hurt you, he was strong and you couldn’t break free. He got you back to the corner before he let go, and you pushed away at his hands. “What on earth has gotten into you today?   
  
Instead of answering, you stomped your foot and dropped to your bottom on the floor. The little fall hurt a bit, but you wouldn’t admit it, not right now at least.   
  
Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep breath. “JARVIS, please add another ten minutes to (Y/N)’s timer.”   
  
“Yes, Captain Rogers. Would you like me to resume the timer now?”   
  
“Please.”   
  
Instead of going back to the kitchen, Steve stayed in the living room and sat on the couch. He had his book open in his lap like he was reading it, but between his racing thoughts and glancing up at you every minute to make sure you were still there, he couldn’t focus on that if he’d tried. Should he call Coulson? Clint wasn’t a brat or badly behaved, but maybe Coulson had more insight into what to do than Steve did.   
  
Steve looked over at you and saw you were already looking at him, but when you saw him you quickly averted your eyes and turned away, crossing your arms over your chest.   
  
As the minutes ticked by, you started to squirm. Something in the back of your head told you that you should’ve let Steve change you when he first asked, but you couldn’t tell him that now. But you were getting uncomfortable, and that was making your already sour mood even worse. You didn’t even know what had you so upset, you just felt...off. Your tummy was in knots and your brain felt kinda fuzzy, but you were just a baby, how were you supposed to explain that? Besides, wasn’t it Steve’s job to figure out what was wrong? His solution was a timeout, which did nothing to help the situation and only served to make you more upset. All you knew was that everything was far too much right now.   
  
And then Tony walked in.   
  
The elevator doors opened almost silently and Tony stepped out, looking at his phone. It wasn’t until he was a few steps into the living room that he seemed to feel the tension in the air, and he looked up.   
  
After a second of taking everything in, the mess in front of the bookshelf, the sulking little one in the corner, and the stress and tension radiating from Steve’s body on the couch, Tony let out a low whistle.   
  
“Wow, something happened here.”   
  
You turned around enough to see Tony standing there, and you sniffled, feeling like you were ready to start crying again.   
  
Steve closed his book again, setting it aside. “Hi Tony.”   
  
“Hey Cap. Should I maybe come back another time?” Tony glanced at you again. “Or maybe never? I’m not sure what happened here,” he gestured to the pile of books. “but it doesn’t seem like something I want to be a part of. (Y/N), what’d you do to get yourself put in the slammer, huh?”   
  
Tony’s reflexes were sharp enough to catch your pacifier before it could hurtle into his face. He hooked the ring around his finger, giving it a little twirl.   
  
You whined and made grabby hands toward him. “Mine!”   
  
“Hey, you threw it at me. Pretty sure that makes it mine now.”   
  
In response, you gave a high pitched wail and kicked at the wall, falling onto your back and burying your face in your hands.   
  
Tony looked at Steve with a raised eyebrow, and Steve just shrugged, shaking his head.   
  
“You wanna come into the kitchen with me?”   
  
Steve glanced over at you, and back at Tony.   
  
“JARVIS, you got an eye on the kid?”   
  
“Always, Sir.”   
  
Tony nodded toward the kitchen and turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Steve reluctantly followed.   
  
“What’s going on?” Tony asked. He opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of blueberries.   
  
Steve groaned, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I have no idea, they won’t tell me anything. The most I’ve gotten out of them is ‘no.’”   
  
Tony crossed over to the dining table in the kitchen and picked up your blanket that was sitting there neatly folded. “What’s this doing in here?”   
  
“(Y/N)’s in timeout, I took it.”   
  
“Now that’s just cruel.”   
  
Steve rolled his eyes. “They’re in timeout, that’s the rule, you know that.”   
  
Tony put his hands up. “I’m just saying. Whatever’s bothering the kid, being punished probably isn’t helping.”   
  
“Well what else am I supposed to do? They won’t tell me what’s wrong, they just keep saying no and crying and kicking, and-“   
  
“Hey, relax. You stay in here, I’ll go talk to them.” Tony handed Steve his blueberries.   
  
“They’re still in timeout.”   
  
“They’ll stay in the corner, we’re just gonna talk. That’s not against your corner rules.” Tony said, just a hint of snark in his voice, enough to make Steve sigh.   
  
“Alright, alright.”   
  
Tony walked back into the living room, pleased to see that you were in the same spot you were left in. He went over and stood in front of you, waiting until you peeked out from behind your hands to see him.   
  
“Hey squirt.”   
  
You quickly covered your eyes back up, turning onto your side away from him.   
  
“I see. Alright.” Tony grunted a little as he lowered himself to the floor, sitting criss-cross. He sat there quietly until curiosity got the better of you, and you tilted your head back until you could see him. He gave you a little wave. You blinked at him, and moved to put your thumb in your mouth. Tony held up your pacifier. “I think I have something you might like better than that thumb.”   
  
You whined and reached your arms out, still laying on your back.   
  
Tony pulled his hand back, holding your pacifier out of your reach. “Hey, I’ll give this back, but I need you to do something for me first.”   
  
You rolled over onto your belly, and sat up with your legs tucked underneath of you. You reached out again, but Tony was very good at playing keepaway.   
  
“Hey, what did I just say?”   
  
You crossed your arms and pouted, but Tony pouted right back.   
  
“Two can play this game, kid. All I want is to talk, can we do that?” You didn’t respond, but Tony didn’t seem to care. “Alright, spill. What’s eating you?”   
  
You whined in the back of your throat.   
  
Tony shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak whining when I’m old. Don’t you have just one word you could spare?”   
  
“Icky.”   
  
“There we go, that’s a great start. What’s icky, your tummy?”   
  
You thought for a second, and shook your head.   
  
“Is it...Steve? Is Steve icky?”   
  
That actually made you laugh, just the tiniest bit, without you meaning to.   
  
Tony grinned. “I knew it, it’s Steve isn’t it?”   
  
You shook your head again.   
  
“Oh, it’s not Steve? That’s weird, I was sure it was. He’s a pretty icky guy, kinda smells.” Tony spoke loud enough to be sure that Steve could hear him from the other room, and he winked at you. “Well if it’s not your tummy, and it’s not Steve, what else could it be? Your head?”   
  
You let out a heavy sigh, dropping your head and nodding. That sounded about right.   
  
“Ahhh, I see. Icky thoughts, huh?”   
  
You nodded again.   
  
Tony reached out and put a hand on your knee. “Hey, it’s alright. Icky thoughts are no fun, but why didn’t you just tell Steve that’s what was bothering you?”   
  
You scrunched your eyebrows and pointed at Tony.   
  
“ _ Hey _ , we’re talking about you here, not me. This has nothing to do with me not telling Steve things.” Tony stuck his tongue out at you, earning another giggle. “Alright, let’s make sure I’m up to speed. You’re having some icky thoughts, maybe some anxiety, hm? But you’re such a tiny baby,” Tony teased. “you didn’t know how to tell Steve. So you thought that throwing the mother of all tantrums would fix everything?”   
  
Well when he put it like that, it did sound kinda silly. You stuck the tip of your index finger into your mouth, and you nodded, not meeting Tony’s eyes.   
  
“I mean, that sounds pretty reasonable to me. But Steve’s a lame grown-up, he doesn’t understand that sorta thing. So you gotta give him a little something to work with when you’re feeling like that, alright? Think that’s something we can work on?”   
  
You nodded again.   
  
“There we go. Damn, my therapist is gonna be proud of me for that one, I could take over her job.”   
  
You scrunched your nose and shook your head.   
  
“No? I’m not that good? You’re probably right, leave it to the professionals. But I helped get you sorted out, and that’s gotta mean something.” Tony shugged. “Now, it’s pretty obvious to me that you’re not very comfortable sitting there. Why don’t we go get you changed and you can figure out what to tell Steve.” He held out his hand with your pacifier sitting on his palm, and you eagerly grabbed it and stuck it back in your mouth.   
  
Tony stood up and took your hands to help you up. “JARVIS, cancel (Y/N)’s timer.”   
  
“If you insist, Sir.”   
  
Tony kept hold of your hand. “Alright kiddo, let’s go.”   
  
—-   
  
A few minutes later, Tony lead you back into the kitchen. As soon as you saw Steve sitting at the table with his head resting in his hand, you froze in place and did your best to hide behind Tony. Steve was probably so mad at you, of course he would be mad! What if he didn’t forgive you? What if he decided he didn’t want to take care of you anymore? What if h-   
  
“Steve, I think someone has something they’d like to say to you.” Tony stepped to the side and gave you a gentle nudge forward. You stumbled a little over your feet, staring down at the floor and fiddling with the hem of your shirt nervously.   
  
“Hey (Y/N),” Steve said, and when you finally looked up at him he gave you a soft smile.   
  
That was all you needed.   
  
You burst into tears and ran forward. You threw yourself into Steve, and he reacted quickly enough to catch you in a hug. You nearly got him square in the gut with your knee, but he couldn’t seem to care less. You found the curve of his neck where your head fit just perfectly and you cried.   
  
You cried until your breath caught in your throat and turned into hiccups, and you felt Steve’s hand rubbing up and down your back to calm you down. Even after your breathing evened out he didn’t stop.   
  
“S-sorry, ‘m sorry,” you choked out, your voice muffled against Steve’s chest.   
  
Steve started to rock you back and forth. “Shhh, it’s alright. You’re okay.  _ I’m _ sorry, sweetheart.”   
  
That got you to pull your head away from Steve, enough to look up at him in confusion. You rubbed at your nose with the back of your hand, but Tony stepped in and handed Steve a napkin. Steve gently pushed your hand away and cleaned up your face.   
  
“Sorry?”   
  
“Yeah, honey, I’m sorry. So very sorry. I   
should’ve tried to help you instead of punishing you.”   
  
You sniffled. “Was bad. Yell.”   
  
Steve nodded, “You did yell, but you weren’t doing it to be bad, and I didn’t realize that. I should’ve seen that you were having a hard time, and I’m sorry about that. I’ll work on it, okay?”   
  
Tony cleared his throat, and when you glanced over at him he gestured vaguely at Steve.   
  
You reluctantly pulled out your pacifier, holding it in your hands in your lap. “Work on tell Steve. Gotta tell when feeling bad. Tony says.”   
  
Steve couldn’t help but snort a little laugh. “Oh, Tony says that you have to tell me when you’re feeling bad? That Tony right there?” He pointed to Tony.   
  
You giggled to yourself, nodding.   
  
Tony narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re such a traitor.”   
  
“Tony,” Steve warned playfully. “Be nice to the baby. They’ve had a hard day.”   
  
As if on cue, you let out a yawn that made your whole face scrunch up. You rubbed your eyes with a loose fist. Putting all of your energy into throwing a fit had finally caught up with you. It had to be close to your naptime, anyway.   
  
Steve plucked your pacifier out of your hand and held it to your lips until you took it. With an arm around your waist, he reached to the end of the table and grabbed your blanket. Your face lit up and you hugged your blankie to your chest, rubbing the soft fabric against your cheek.   
  
“I think it’s time for someone to go down for a nap, how does that sound?”   
  
You nodded, and you poked a finger at Steve’s chest.   
  
“You want me to lay down with you?”   
  
You nodded again.   
  
Steve smiled, kissing you on the cheek as he stood up. “I think that sounds like a great idea, I could use some (Y/N) cuddles.”   
  
You made a soft noise behind your pacifier and you pointed to Tony.   
  
“Oh, you think Tony should come lay down for a nap too?”   
  
You made grabby hands at Tony to confirm.   
  
Tony let out a dramatic sigh, and pulled his phone from his pocket, checking something on it quickly before putting it back. “Alright, I suppose I can afford a little nap time. Especially with this one.” He poked at your side, smiling when you wiggled and squirmed.   
  
Steve led the way toward the master bedroom, the best place for naps, past the mess of books that could be dealt with some other time. Tony trailed closely behind, making faces at you over while you peeked over Steve’s shoulder.   
  
Icky thoughts were no fun, but you always had people there to help you through them.


End file.
